


Pomegranate

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 01:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15522900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: It all happened so fast. One second, he was watching the plants fighting through the still-hard earth, smiling upon the first signs of life that made themselves known in the fields; and then everything turned black.Hades and Persephone Drowley AU, Hades!Crowley, Persephone!Dean.





	Pomegranate

Dean was busy blessing the crops of the land. The people had prayed to him and sacrificed fruits in his temples; and even if they had been lax in their duties, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to punish them. He had never been a vindictive god.

It all happened so fast. One second, he was watching the plants fighting through the still-hard earth, smiling upon the first signs of life that made themselves known in the fields; and then everything turned black.

When he woke up, he felt like he was suffocating, or rather, like he imagined suffocating would feel like to a mortal.

He sat up and took in his surroundings.

Although he had never been here before, he knew exactly where he was.

The Underworld.

Small wonder he felt ready to crawl out of his skin; his domain was life, growing, thriving, flourishing life; this was a world of death and destruction.

“Ah, the God who calls himself Dean” a smooth voice made itself known and he turned around to see the Lord of the Underworld.

He had met him before, once or twice, when it had been necessary for all gods to convene. “Crowley. What –“

“Oh, just a little squabble with your father. I thought I could use some leverage.”

“Whatever he gets up to, I have nothing to do with it” Dean pointed out. After all, what did the God of agriculture have to worry about the God of war, unless another one of his battles ruined the fields again? And gods were not like mortals; there were no close-knit families.

“I am aware of that, and yet… You are not just his son, are you? let’s see how he feels when people start dying because the crops won’t grow.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. “This isn’t the people’s fault! They prayed to me! They worship me so I may –“

“Yeah, yeah, you hop around like a squirrel that borrows its nuts and then forgets about them so trees may grow. In that case, you better hope your daddy dearest reacts to my demands soon.”

* * *

As it turned out, he didn’t. Dean hadn’t expected it; his father could be stubborn at the best of times; and yet –

And yet.

He could feel earth slowly dying, and every day, it seemed like his own strength was ebbing away as he did so.

He had to do something.

And so Dean, God of Agriculture, of everything that lived and grew, everything that wasn’t death, began exploring the Underworld. He didn’t see much of Crowley at first; he seemed confident that he couldn’t escape; and yet that was exactly what Dean was trying to do.

He was surprised when, a few days into his exploration, he met someone else; obviously a half-God and looking rather annoyed. “You must be Dean. Father told me he had captured you.”

He had never known Crowley had a son. Maybe he had kept it a secret so no one would do what Crowley himself had done when he had taken Dean? “And you are?”

“Gavin.”

Oh. He had heard of him, but had believed it was one of those gods the mortals simply made up. “God of bargaining?”

He nodded. “Father gave me the job. Many try to bargain in their last hour, you see.”

Dean could easily believe that. “Any chance you know how to get out of here?”

Gavin looked at him with pity in his eyes. “Yes, but Father would have my hide if I told you, sorry.”

Dean shuddered for the first time in his life, and Gavin stared at him. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is so… dead here. I cannot stand it.”

He stormed off, unable to stand still any longer. He was sorry to leave Gavin just like that; but he could hardly be blamed for it, since he was imprisoned in a world that was sure to kill him eventually.

Dean was surprised when, after he had been walking around and watching the souls of the dead for a while, Crowley appeared next to him. “You look pale. Let’s have dinner.”

“Let me guess, you don’t want to lose your hostage?” he asked tiredly.

“Something like that. You are certainly not mentally deficient.”

Somehow, Dean got the bizarre impression that coming from Crowley, this was supposed to be a compliment of the highest order.

* * *

At their dinner table, Dean looked down at his plate and began to laugh. He couldn’t help himself; this was too much; and he laughed and laughed and laughed like he hadn’t done since he had woken up here.

When he stopped he looked up to find Crowley staring at him – and not just him; the shadows of the dead had formed a circle around them, being drawn to the mirth they had left behind when  they had gone down to the underworld.

And for a moment, the darkness didn’t seem so hopeless.

“I…” Crowley was obviously lost for words. He cleared his throat and sat back, scowling at the spirits who quickly scampered. “I would like to know what –“

“I’m the God of agriculture, jackass. Plants are kind of my thing. And those? Those are pomegranate seeds. Nice try to bind me to this place forever.”

Crowley didn’t answer.

But as Dean started to carefully pick the seeds out of his meal, he could have sworn he heard him mumble, “No. Not mentally deficient indeed.”

* * *

After that, he saw more of Crowley, which rather surprised him. Certainly he should be discussing the terms of his release with his father? But instead, he seemed content to rule the Underworld from his throne and annoy Dean.

And after a while, he had to admit he didn’t even seem that annoying anymore.

It was the weirdest thing, but somehow –

It was –

He was –

The point was that Crowley could be quite charming and funny if he wanted.

“You know, I probably would have eventually kidnapped you anyway” he commented one day, strolling up to him. “It was time we had something worth looking at around here.”

“So you don’t think the souls are a charming view?” Dean asked. “I personally do love some wistful expressions in the morning.”

“Oh, I can always do wistful” Crowley told him with such a sincere expression on his face that he had to laugh.

What an enigmatic creature the Lord of the Underworld was.

* * *

“Squirrel, how are we on this fine morning?”

“Still being oppressed by death and destruction all around me, thanks” he said tiredly. He didn’t think he could truly die, but nonetheless he felt his essence diminish more and more. And he needed his strength – once he returned to earth, he would have to save the fields and the crops.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be cheerful.” Crowley snapped his fingers, and Dean felt some of his lost strength returning.

He stared at him, opened his mouth to thank him.

Crowley looked at him, an indecipherable expression on his face, then walked away.

* * *

The fights Crowley had with his son made the ground tremble and the ghosts hide in the most secluded corners of his kingdom. Dean usually stepped in and managed to calm them both down.

“Why do you care?” Crowley hissed one day after he had dragged him away from Gavin yet again.

“Because you do” Dean said simply.

“What –“

“Mom and Dad left me and Sammy to our own devices as soon as we got our bearings” he shrugged, “But you keep him close. You have to care about him.”

Crowley didn’t answer.

* * *

Dean had taken to now and then indulging in naps in order to refresh his energy, and one day he woke up feeling much better than in the days and weeks before.

He learned why when he took his usual stroll around the Underworld.

Plants. There were plants everywhere. Not those he knew best, of course; nothing bright and colourful and lively; mostly [solanaceae](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.dict.cc%2Fenglisch-deutsch%2Fsolanaceae.html&t=ZWNkYmUzMGI2Y2RhZjkxZjU3OTQ0NjViYmVkOGYyMmRlMGNhODc1OCxqTHZYZjl6ag%3D%3D&b=t%3A2-u1A10u7TAvVKjBNzSBrw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fhekate1308.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176514344482%2Fpomegranate&m=1) ; but still, living, breathing plants, and he quickly made sure they had all the nourishment they needed.

“I thought you would like them” Crowley remarked casually and Dean turned to find him standing very close to him. “Like you said, I cannot risk my hostage fading away.”

“They’re beautiful” he said, getting up from his knees. “Thank you.”

Crowley was clearly taken aback by his gratitude. “Ahm, yes – of course.”

And then he faded into the shadows, as he was wont to do.

After that, they daily had dinner together, sometimes joined by Gavin; and Dean didn’t even have to pick pomegranate seeds off his plate anymore.

* * *

He and Gavin were sailing on the river Lethe, since they had nothing else to do; it seemed like very few people had time to bargain when they were trying not to starve, and of course Dean couldn’t do anything while he was trapped in the Underworld.

“Do you like Father?” Gavin asked suddenly.

Dean, who had been busy watching the souls who had chosen to reincarnate drink from the river, reeled around. “What?”

Gavin shrugged. “I know he likes you.”

“He kidnapped me” Dean reminded him.

“Still. He made plants grow. Here. Of course he likes you.”

Dean didn’t answer. Mostly because he was starting to worry that he did indeed like Crowley, as little sense as it made.

* * *

That evening, Gavin left them alone for dinner. Crowley’s hellhound with her three heads, Juliet, did not; but Dean had long since grown used to her.

They mostly stayed silent.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised when Crowley, after they had finished eating and had gotten up from the table, shook his head and walked up to him with a few quick, decisive steps.

He reached out and touched his neck. “Tell me you want me too.”

Dean knew this was a bad idea. Crowley was still his gaoler, so to speak; and who knew what it would do to him and his already mixed emotions if –

He felt himself nod regardless.

The kiss they shared, he was rather sure, was the first of its kind in the Underworld.

After that, Dean’s captivity became decidedly more pleasant – and also harder to leave behind, when the time came.

* * *

And then a miracle happened. Apparently his father was tired of people dropping like flies instead of falling in the battle field, and he and Crowley’s fight was cleared up.

Dean almost believed Crowley looked somewhat sad as he told him. Almost. Or maybe that was just because he felt his own heart sink in his breast.

He cleared his throat. “SO I am free to go?”

Crowley wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Yes, you are. If you want, Gavin can show you the way –“

“Do you want me to go?” Dean asked.

“I got what I wanted.”

“Crowley, do you want me to go?”

“Even if I didn’t, you belong up there. Nothing could make you –“

“Yes. Yes, something could” Dean said slowly as he, now being free of all magical bounds and burdens that must have kept him here originally, he realized, pressed a hand to the floor and a pomegranate tree grew.

“Squirrel, what –“

“ _Do you want me to leave_?” he demanded once more, looking him straight in the eyes.

Crowley swallowed. They both knew this was it, the moment of decision. If he let jis pride get the best of him now, if he would rather be alone than to admit –

“No.” It was quietly said, but it was firmly said.

Dean reached out and took a pomegranate into his hands, gently opening it. Then, never taking his eyes off Crowley’s, he swallowed a few seeds.

* * *

“You did what?!”

Dean sighed and looked at the God of Sacrifice. “I told you a million times already, Sammy.”

“But – but – that means part of you belongs to the Underworld now! You’ll have to go back there again and again!”

“yep.”

“Yep!?”

After a pause, Sam continued, forcing himself to sound calmer, “Is this about Crowley?”

“Yes.”

“You love him.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah” he admitted, “And the feeling’s mutual.”

“If you think so –“

“I know it is” he interrupted him, remembering the look in Crowley’s eyes as he had admitted he didn’t want Dean to leave.

Sam sighed. “Alright. But what are you going to do about the crops when you have to go to the Underworld –“

“I already thought of that. Talked it over with Crowley. We decided it might be a good idea to give the plants some rest, so there will be a new season.”

“A new season?”

“Yes. We’re going to call it winter.”

* * *

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean called out at the beginning of the new, cold season as he strolled into the Underworld.

Juliet ran up to him, her three tongues hanging out of their perspective mouth, clearly ecstatic taht he was back.

“Where’s your Papa, hm?” he asked, scratching her under her middle chin.

Arms wrapped themselves around him. Of course. His God of Death and Destitution, always lurking in the shadows. Dean smiled.

“Miss me?” Crowley asked into his ear.

He turned around to kiss him. “Of course. You know me – too much happy life can get awfully monotonous after a while.”

And then, for the first time in the history of the Underworld, Crowley joined his bonded in his laughter. 


End file.
